


salt and a waltz

by The Byger (Byacolate)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Magic, Magic!Stiles, PWP, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Soul Bond, Soulmates, That's it, fae!Stiles, genuinely nothing more than a faerie stiles pwp, gratuitous use of pet names, sort of wingfic, that's the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:17:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/The%20Byger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Not that lubed-up Q-tips aren’t the sexiest thing in the world, but I kinda want to know what it’s like, you know. To be impaled on your huge dick without actually being impaled.” </p><p>“It was about to get sexy there, but you shot the mood right in the face.”</p><p>In which Stiles is a faerie and Derek is sick and tired of not being able to fuck him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	salt and a waltz

Stiles found Derek lying on the old run down thrift shop couch that he had finally lugged up to his little place in the woods. His eyes were closed, but Stiles could tell that he wasn't sleeping; even if it wasn’t obvious by the tension along his body, their connection would have told him so. He flew over to the resting wolf and landed on his chest.

 

One sleepy green eye opened to look down at him. "Done eating flowers, or whatever it is that you do?"

 

"Har har," Stiles snarked back, perching himself on Derek's chest and flopping onto his back. "Your sister's honeysuckle isn't _nearly_ sweet enough for my tastes. But don't tell her or she'll rip my wings out. Again."

 

Derek shrugged and rolled over, because he was an ass, and Stiles had to flap his wings not to get thrown off. "Hey! No fair. You should let me sit on you like a normal biggie. Scott lets me sit on his shoulder."

 

"Scott is a pushover."

 

"Touché." Stiles flitted over and stumbled by Derek's face. He plopped down on his ass and sent a dubious stare up Derek's nose. When Derek narrowed his eyes, he smirked. "Classy nostril flare you got goin’ there."

 

Derek grumbled and made a grab for Stiles, but missed when the faerie flitted away, laughing. It was great fun for him when Derek couldn't catch him; he was the only member of the gang quicker than the werewolf. Not that it was anything against Derek, of course. Fae were quicker than hummingbirds. Still, if Derek had made a real effort (he didn’t), he might have been able to at least get Stiles’ heart rate up. But the wolf didn’t even rise, flopping back down into the worn cushions with a grunt. Apparently, he was determined to be no fun that evening. Stiles flitted over and dropped back onto his stomach, flopping down until his whole backside was stretched over the rock-hard abdomen.

 

"You should take your clothes off," Stiles said, feeling around his abs.

 

"No."

 

"You're no fun, you know that? Why do I even bother with you? Normally you take your shirt off all the time completely unprompted, but as soon as I _ask_ you to, you’re suddenly contrary." He rolled over onto his stomach, freeing the pale wings to flap behind his back.

 

With a little grunt, he reached out and grabbed the hem of Derek's shirt with both hands, pulling it back just enough to see a thin, dark strip of Derek's belly. He army crawled down to it and ran his fingers through the soft, warm-scented hair that he knew crept from Derek's navel to the tantalizing waistline of Derek's pants.

 

"Come on, take it off. Please?" Stiles tried to flutter his eyelashes, knowing that Derek's sharp eyesight would pick up the small movements, but it didn't seem to have an effect.

 

Derek was looking down at him, and actually gave a little smirk. "Why don't you undress me? Without using magic."

 

Stiles looked up at him, mouth hanging open. "Are you freaking kidding me? I'm like the size of your shoe, and you expect me to take off all your clothes? With no magic? Come on, a little magic dust and I would have these clothes gone in an instant."

 

"Where's the fun in that?"

 

"In being able to render you totally naked?"

 

Derek bared his teeth in a vicious imitation of a grin and Stiles just rolled his eyes. "Okay, cool, I'm up for a challenge. Sit up, boy."

 

He did as was told, and Stiles stood on his leg. He started lifting up the shirt, which was a little annoying because he had to keep climbing around Derek’s torso to lift it up all around Derek. By the time he’d made it to Derek’s armpits, Stiles was breathing a little harder. "Alright, lift up your arms.

 

"Yes, pixie," Derek snorted, to which Stiles let out an affronted hiss and kicked at his perfectly sculpted pecs on his way 'round.

 

"Call me that one more time and you'll wake up tomorrow with purple feathers sprouting from your teeth."

 

He liked to think that the look Derek gave him was horror and in no way amusement. Either way, the werewolf lifted his arms. Stiles had to work his wings extra hard to try to get it up, the fabric getting stuck half way off. This was impossible! How did these creatures ever get undressed?

 

The whole thing was turning out to be more silly than sexy.

 

Stiles finally kicked Derek's armpit and sent a smattering of glittery dust into Derek's stubble. Let's see him try to get _that_ out any time soon. "Lift your mammoth arms, asshole!"

 

Derek  rolled his eyes, like Stiles was the one being totally ridiculous here, and lifted his arms higher. After a lot of fucking around (because the fabric was way too tight, why did Derek insist on showing off his muscles so much?) Stiles finally managed to wrench it off and dropped it to the ground. "Hell yeah! Who's amazing? I am, that's who!" Derek looked pointedly down at his jeans and then at Stiles, eyebrows raised. Stiles glared. "Give me my thirty seconds of victory, okay, you great hulking vacuum of joy?"

 

Derek shrugged and leaned back into the couch. "Or you could give up now before you get to the hard part."

 

"Ha, you mean the good part! Like I would stop now." Stiles landed on his crotch to start trying to undo his fly, and then looked up at Derek with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, you actually _did_ mean the hard part, didn't you? Are you seriously turned on by watching me struggle to get your clothes off?" He shifted around, putting pressure on the bump in Derek's jeans. And Derek, ever the oddball, just growled a bit. Subvocal growling was his specialty - a deep, resonating rumble that was only meant to intimidate Stiles’ dick into standing at attention. They were, more or less, _the_ odd couple. “You like that, Balto? You’re the weirdest size queen in the world.”

 

But, there was a job to be done. Stiles looked down at the fly and cracked his knuckles. “Alright, I’ve never undone a fly before, especially not one half my size, but I can do this. Piece of cake. Piece of Derek cake with a huge cherry on top in the form of getting you naked.” He was mostly talking to himself, but knew that Derek could still hear everything he said despite his small voice. Definitely one of the perks of being connected with a werewolf. Stiles gripped the zip with only minimal difficulty (Derek already had the top button undone, the hussy), and yanked it down determinedly over the substantial bulge. “You couldn’t have maybe adjusted your junk?” he whined, losing his purchase on the fly and tumbling half over Derek’s lap when his hips jerked up unexpectedly.

 

Trying to get back up, Stiles slipped between Derek’s legs, which wasn’t really a place he had never been before, but still. “Okay, if you still want me to undress you, you kinda have to work with me on this. Unless you’d like to do it yourself so we can get to the fun stuff.”

 

“Getting lazy?” Derek grunted, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and shimmying out of them. Some incredibly interesting muscles flexed and bunched as he lifted his hips and tightened his belly and Stiles may or may not have begun to drool.

 

“I’d prefer to call myself practical, thanks.” Practical being that they might get onto the sex within this century if Derek didn’t leave the undressing to someone a fraction of his size.

 

The wolf rolled his eyes, and then he was out of his jeans, sitting on the couch in only his boxer briefs. And Stiles really loved him in his boxer briefs. “Well, since me getting naked was your idea, what next?”

 

Stiles tore his eyes away from Derek’s cockhead, which peeked out of the top of his underwear like a shy ol’ thing. Stiles was pretty fond if it. “Ah, the door, it locks right?”

 

“I would be able to tell if anyone was outside anyway.”

 

“Yeah, except when you’re sexed out of your mind,” Stiles snorted. “Need I remind you of last summer’s -”

 

“You took an _oath_ never to mention that again,” Derek growled, and Stiles just shrugged, an almost palpable air of smugness about him.

 

“Never even passed my lips, pretty boy. Lay back down.” Stiles landed on his chest when Derek did as he was asked. Now there was just his underwear to take off, and he had definitely done _that_ before. Stiles pushed up the elastic band, one hand going in to feel up the side of Derek’s erection.

 

Derek gave a small thrust of his hips, slow enough to not dislodge the faerie, and Stiles was thankful. It happened often enough that Stiles had just learned to hold on tight to the blood-hot dick for the jerky ride, and if he looked ridiculous, well, tough titty. When needs must and all that. Still, it was just easier to pin Derek’s hips with a little gravity spell, and while it always made Derek snarl shortly at the feel of being restrained, his thudding heartbeat and glazed eyes attesting to anything but protest.

 

Once he had Derek’s cock fully out of his underwear, Stiles quickly slipped out of his clothes that consisted of a strange mix of doll clothes and leaves. Once they were on the floor, he reached for the hard flesh, glancing up to Derek’s face to see his eyes hooded and dark. He grinned and ran his hand carefully up a thick vein, pulling Derek’s foreskin down over the deep red cockhead and lapping the hot skin eagerly. Derek huffed and whined, and Stiles could feel the tremors in his muscles for being forcibly compliant with Stiles’ spell.

 

Slowly a small bead of precome started leaking from Derek’s slit, which was Stiles’ favorite part. He wrapped his arms around the head to keep it still, and licked up to the hole. It was salty, and Stiles lapped it all up, running his small tongue over the top of his head.

 

The best part about their weird magical bond, he had long since decided, was that the more intimacy they shared, be it physical, mental, or emotional, the more energy they themselves would feel. Derek had professed to being able to run faster, longer, the more they touched - his senses were heightened, his grumpy attitude mellowed, and it took him at least twice as many push-ups to burn off all his excess energy. As for Stiles, his magic became nearly explosive with power. Where it normally had always lurked beneath the surface of his skin, coming in waves that ebbed and flowed with his moods, when he and Derek had begun to connect, it could not be contained. His wings never tired, his spells were cast exactly as he intended them, and the constant buzz in his brain quieted in moments like these, when Derek’s skin was under his hands and tongue and completely at his mercy. Because Derek trusted him to pin his hips with magic, to undress him, to get under his skin. (The depth of that emotional intimacy made the magic in Stiles’ fingertips burn red hot and he had to pull them off of Derek’s skin for a moment, just in case.)

 

And to a point, he could also feel what Derek was feeling; not totally, as it was more of an empathy phenomenon than a physical, but enough so that he knew just how close Derek was to coming when he was pulled off. Stiles whined at being carried in his hand like a toy. “What are you doing? Let me go, I wanna touch you!” Because he absolutely loved being covered in Derek’s come from head to toe. Derek teased him about it, but he knew the wolf liked it, too.

 

“You do it too slow,” he grunted, wrapping his own hand around his dick and jerking it hard and fast. “Winds me - nng - up too much. Can’t take care of you afterwards.”

 

“Aww, I knew you cared,” Stiles breathed, watching in fascination and lifting the spell so Derek could roll his hips up in that tantalizing way of his as he roughly brought himself off.

 

Just before he climaxed, Derek brought Stiles to his mouth, and licked up from his legs to his stomach, rubbing back and forth, making Stiles’ toes curl with his cock being caressed by the large hot tongue. He felt his eyes flutter shut and reached out, cupping Derek’s cheeks in his hands and panting. He knew his mouth must be opened obscenely wide, but it was so hard to breathe when Derek decided he was in the mood for a tongue bath - specifically, giving one to his faerie.

 

Derek stopped licking him, giving a groan, his eyes fluttering shut. Stiles watched him, still captured in his hand, which was luckily claw free. He could almost feel the second Derek climaxed, his seed shooting up and covering his stomach. Stiles squirmed, but the lack of purchase under his dangling legs made it difficult to thrust against Derek’s hand. He whined and gasped, gripping Derek’s fingers tightly. “Der’k, come on, need you to finish the job here man, I’m dyin’ -!”

 

But Derek was standing up, carrying him to the bathroom. "Shit Derek, are you seriously doing this right now? I am so close to coming, oh my god..."

 

"You're _constantly_ whining about never taking it slow, but you always get like this when I try," Derek sighed, and he was putting a lot of effort into it to sound exasperated, but all Stiles could hear was fondness. "There's just no pleasing you."

 

"Oh there is pleasing me, you could be pleasing me _right now_ , but instead you're taking me to the bathroom," Stiles complained, and gave an _oof_ when he was deposited onto the counter.

 

Derek went over to the bath and turned on the faucet, hot water gushing out to fill the tub as he stripped off his underwear completely and started digging through one of the drawers under the sink. Stiles watched the cut of his hips with the movement, and the thick, flaccid cock with great interest as he palmed his own, whimpering when Derek began to growl.

 

When the tub was mostly full, Derek straightened up with a Q-tip in hand. Stiles swallowed and pulled his hand completely away from his cock. "Are you really gonna-"

 

"Yes."

 

"Then get some lotion, dude, this shit ain't self-lubricating," he snarked, and Derek rolled his eyes, reaching in the drawer under Stiles for a little packet of lube. Stiles felt a shiver of anticipation jolt through his body. He landed in the tub, lightly treading water until Derek got in and he could stand on his thigh.

 

He couldn't help the breathless little giggle when Derek's fingertips dragged gently over his back and over his ass, scooping him up just under the thighs. Stiles reclined over Derek's wet, warm palm, spreading his legs until one foot rested on Derek's forearm, while the other leg dangled in midair.

 

Derek dipped the Q-tip into the lube, and took a good few seconds to rub it over Stiles' cock and down to his balls, making the small faerie squirm in his grip.

 

It wasn't ideal - initially in their partnership, Derek had been somewhat put off by the fact that he couldn't even stretch Stiles open himself, much less fuck him. He had been so sure that they'd never be able to properly consummate their weird magical marriage, and for the longest time, it had kept him from trying to play with Stiles at any capacity.

 

Derek dipped the tip into the packet of lube one last time, despite Stiles' grunts of protest, and congratulated himself for getting over his weird hangups as he slowly pressed the Q-tip inside.

 

It was fairly big to start with, and the texture was all wrong, but Stiles closed his eyes and pushed back against it. The stretch was always a bit painful at first, but it wasn't long (especially with a bit of faerie dust) before the pain faded and all Stiles could think about was Derek fucking him open.

 

Compared to the memorable time Derek had filled him near to bursting with just his pinkie finger, this was fine. And when the thickest part was in, it was all very easy to concentrate on the pleasure.

 

Stiles could feel Derek watching him, probably picking out the beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He started thrusting the Q-tip in and out, occasionally pulling it to its widest part and leaving it there for a minute.

 

The nail of Derek's thumb gently skimmed under Stiles' jaw and Stiles gripped the digit with his hand, the other tugging lazily at his cock. "Harder, just... just a bit more, Derek, please... I'm almost..."

 

Derek twisted it, and Stiles could feel the slick cotton against his prostate. He bit his lip as he came, knowing what a faerie scream could do to wolf ears and not wanting to take that chance. He rubbed against Derek's finger, holding it tight as the Q-tip fucked into him.

 

When he was done shaking from the aftershocks, Stiles rubbed his cheek against the pad of Derek's thumb and made a little choking noise when Derek slowly pulled to Q-tip out. He closed his eyes, content to let Derek bring him up to rest on his abs, body immersed in the deliciously hot water. Stiles scratched pleasantly at Derek's taut muscles.

 

The wolf rumbled quietly, "I wish I could fuck you," as he ran his fingers up and down Stiles' back, missing his wings each time.

 

Stiles panted softly against the heat of Derek's skin, sweat and bathwater sticking his face to the werewolf's overly hot skin. "I dunno, buddy," he laughed breathlessly. "You nearly split me in two with the tip of your pinkie once. I don't think your dick's gonna make it."

 

Derek gave him a look that was entirely too serious for the post orgasm feels Stiles was getting. “The fact that I can’t doesn’t make me want to any less.” Because it was instinct, wasn’t it, for a werewolf to want to mate? And that got Stiles thinking of a strange tiny fae-wolf hybrid that was just way too cute and funny at the same time, but that wasn’t the point here was it?

 

"I kinda do too," Stiles amended. His voice was low, and he could feel it vibrate in Derek's skin, but he knew the wolf could hear him. "Sometimes. Sometimes I sort of wish this whole magical mate-partners thing destiny picked for us had made sure we were both relatively the same size, y'know?"

 

"My mom knew a dwarf once who'd been destined with a half giantess," Derek mused.

 

Stiles really tried not to laugh at that, but he really couldn't help it. "I think destiny has a size kink." Which really sucked. He leaned back, kicking his feet lazily in the hot water. If only there were a spell...

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Derek grunted, smoothing his thumb down Stiles’ torso. He was so soft and affectionate when he wanted to be - he had to be, really, what with their enormous size difference and Derek’s mammoth strength. He’d resisted so much in the beginning, wouldn’t even touch Stiles back when the fae climbed all over him playfully. Like he’d been afraid of his own strength. They’d come pretty far that Derek could do even just this without watching him hawkishly for any signs of his own indelicacy. “It was just a thought. We’re fine like this.”

 

“Well, it would be way easier if we were the same size. Dammit, now I won’t be able to stop wondering if there’s something for this. A quick and dirty shrinking spell.” Or something at least, maybe a potion? There were a few books he could look at…

 

“Stiles, it’s probably not safe,” Derek pointed out. He was too content to be irritable, which was nice. Stiles loved him like this.

 

“I’ll make it safe. Come on, Derek. Not that lubed-up Q-tips aren’t the best thing ever, but I kinda want to know what it’s like, you know. To be impaled on your huge dick without _actually_ being impaled.”

 

“It was about to get sexy there, but you just shot the mood right in the face.”

 

“Oh come on, when am I ever not sexy?”

 

* * *

 

Stiles fluttered around nervously, anxiously moving around some of the flowers he was going to need to make dust. "Look, perfectly safe. I've already practiced on a few animals. By the way, if you see a cat the size of a thumb running around, can you catch her? She ran away and I’m not sure if she changed back."

 

Derek looked down at him, eyes serious. "But they _do_ change back, right?"

 

Stiles shot an irritable glance over to him. "No," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I'm practicing to make you my size forever."

 

"I wasn't questioning your capabilities or intentions," Derek tried to placate. He knew very well how badly things could turn if a fae felt vexed.

 

Stiles huffed and grabbed one of the roots, grinding it into dust. "Derek, do you really think I would want to try this spell on you if I didn't know it was a hundred percent safe? If I didn't know that there was no chance that you would be turned with really strange proportions? It'll make you roughly my size, and then you’ll change back to your normal size after. Everything’ll be fine."

                     

The wolf nodded, more than a little unwilling to truly anger Stiles (because he only ever really got mad when someone questioned his capabilities, and then his magic went all haywire and Derek would end up being cursed as a helpless rabbit or something until Stiles found it in his heart to forgive him and kiss him to reverse the magic, and really, Derek just didn't have time for all that today). He set down the mason jar of sugar water and warned Stiles to drink up before the ants got to it.

 

He did so, because Stiles would need his energy for the spell to work, and nothing gave a faerie energy like sugar water. "Alright, I need lemon juice… Scott got some for me, it's covered on top of the table. And you have to take your clothes off. The spell won't shrink them, so you‘d get caught in all the material," Stiles explained, voice going higher than normal with excitement.

 

His wings beat like a hummingbird's, so fast that Derek could only see a blur, and his aura spiked a bright, electric blue. "Come on, come on! What are you waiting for? I want to actually be able to put my teeth around your ridiculous biceps!"

 

"I don't think you would be able to-"

 

"Lemon juice!" Stiles said, just finishing up with all of his herbs and flowers. "Oh god, this will be so much better than the Q-tip. And you getting off with more than your hand!"

 

Once Derek put the juice on the table, he started taking his clothes off as he was told.

 

A breeze swept over the yard, and Stiles put a protective bubble over the ingredients so aggressively that it knocked the empty mason jar over. Derek set it upright before he moved on to unbuttoning his pants.

 

As much as he enjoyed watching Derek undress, Stiles had things to do. With a flick of his wrist, the cover to the lemon juice came off, and he mixed one drop in with the flower dust. The rest of the ingredients flew into the self-stirring concoction at his orchestration.

                                     

Then he stood, tapping his foot impatiently until Derek's clothes were folded over the chair. "Okay," he breathed. "Stand somewhere really comfortable. We'd go inside, but I need the wind for this. How can you move so slow!"

 

Derek went over to the lounge chair that Laura had brought outside earlier in the week, because it was the only outdoor surface with a cushion. He had a small container with lube that he set on the arm rest, knowing that if this all worked out, they would need it.

 

"How long will the spell last?" Derek asked, automatically cupping his hand behind Stiles' legs when the faerie landed on his thigh.

 

"It should wear off in a few hours, I think. The time was a bit different for every animal I tried it on. But I found a few things to speed it up, if we wanted to." Stiles said, and looked up at Derek. "Now, do you trust me?"

 

"Apparently," Derek said with a little grin, and Stiles rolled his eyes, smearing the concoction cupped in his palm over his hands like lotion before he painted a tiny rune below Derek's belly button.

 

"Good. 'Cause thanks to me, your wildest dreams are about to come true."

 

Derek snorted, glancing away to the forest. "Right." There were a few more symbols drawn on his naked skin, outlining a few of his muscles. "What will it feel like?"

 

"The sex or the transformation?" Derek gave him a look and Stiles grinned up at him with the best intentions. "Sorry, buddy, I'm clueless about both. None of the animals complained, though."

 

"That's comforting."

 

"I do try. Would it make you feel better if I said you'll feel a slight tingling sensation as you shrink down to the size of a Ken doll?" Stiles asked, drawing on the last rune.

 

Derek rolled his eyes, and then looked down at the marks. "They're... starting to warm up."

 

"That's my personal touch," Stiles said smugly, blowing Derek a kiss. "In preparation for the wicked hot sex we're gonna have once your body's done adjusting to its new size. Which... is a thing that might take a little while, so if you feel weird, don't worry too much about it. That's just 'cause every organ and bone in your body is being shrunken by magic."

 

"You don't have to explain to me about shifting bones and organs," Derek reminded him, closing his eyes.

 

"Uh, right," Stiles said, and fluttered up so he was in front of Derek. "Alright, now you can't move while I do this, alright? That's important, okay? Don't move."

 

He gave a small, rigid nod, and then sat absolutely still as Stiles flew around his head, muttering things.

 

Derek was sure he'd felt a little warm touch against his mouth before Stiles' muttered words started to take shape in an ancient tongue he'd probably never understand. Something shifted low in his gut, and though his instincts told him to tense up and fight the discomfort, Stiles' hands on his temple reminded him to be still.

 

Derek started to feel really warm, not just at the runes but everywhere. The twisting in his gut spread to his whole body, a feeling of things shifting and changing. He forced himself to stay still through the strange sensations.

 

He must have been growling, because Stiles was crooning little nonsense things and touching his hair. With every second, the sweeps of his little hand grew longer and longer, and the feel of Stiles' palm was wider. "It's working," Stiles tittered in excitement.

 

It took probably only a few minutes, but it seemed longer. By the time that Stiles said he could move, Derek felt really strange. It only got weirder when he opened his eyes.

 

Stiles was... “Yeah,” Stiles breathed, reaching forward and cupping his cheeks. Derek’s fingers closed around his wrists, marvelling at the mere fact that he had whole handfuls of Stiles like this, parts of Stiles all of his fingers could grasp without worrying himself silly that he’d crush something. Stiles’ hands were big - huge, really, and Derek would’ve pulled them away to get a better look if they weren’t so busy exploring Derek’s scruff, his hair, his neck. Derek reached down and grabbed Stiles’ hips, sucking in a sharp breath.

 

“You have... way more freckles than I thought.”

 

“Hey, don’t judge. It’s like a 3D game of connect the dots.” Stiles tried to sound aloof, but he still couldn’t take his hands off Derek. “And, for the record, your chest is just as firm as I thought it would be.” He stepped closer, pulling Derek up, and found that Derek was still bigger than him, probably about an inch, which, when this small, was a lot. But it was hard to care that the spell didn’t completely adhere to Stiles’ proportions when he could cup Stiles’ jaw and tilt his face up for a kiss. Stiles had kissed him before, but Derek had never been able to do it properly. He tried to make up for years of that inability in the first twenty greedy seconds before Stiles laughed and curled his fingers in Derek’s hair, his wings buzzing behind him at breakneck speed. There was a flush high in his cheeks and it was the most beautiful thing Derek had ever seen. “We could maybe stay like this forever?”

 

Derek gave a shrug. “Would there be any effects if we used this spell on me more often?”

 

“I don’t see why there would be. But I could do some tests again? Then we could have this whenever we wanted.” Stiles gave a grin, and quickly shed his clothes before pressing up against Derek.

 

The werewolf felt his way down to Stiles’ thighs and lifted him easily; even though they were nearly the same size, Stiles still had hollow bones like a bird, and he was frightfully light. The fae instantly wound his legs around Derek’s hips and laughed brightly, scratching up his back. His nails were longer than Derek had expected. “Dude, I want you pretty bad, but maybe not in this ancient chair out in the open where anyone can see.”

 

“No one would notice. We’re too small.” Derek said, but at the look Stiles gave him, he rolled his eyes. “Fine. But how do you expect me to get anywhere? I don’t have wings.”

 

“I could carry you.” Stiles said, and fluttered his wings to prove his point. “Use a quick spell to make you a little lighter, and then fly you to the house.” He might not be able to make it all the way to Derek’s room, but he could at least make it to the couch.

 

Stiles must have seen Derek’s look of scepticism because he rolled his eyes. The scent of spiked irritation filled Derek’s senses and he had to press his face into Stiles’ neck out of sheer wonderment. It had never been so strong. Stiles huffed.

 

“I know you think I’m a weakling, lovemuffin, but it’s a little known fact that we fae can lift three times our weight, thank you very much.”

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend. I just didn’t realize you were nearly as strong as an ant,” Derek said with a little raised eyebrow.

 

Stiles huffed and cast a little spell, and then wrapped himself around Derek. He lifted him up, carrying him inside through the open window, and landing on the couch. Derek stumbled back, his hands still cupped around Stiles’ thighs, and the fae cackled as they went down. The sofa gave Derek a plush landing, and even though the impact Stiles made landing on his abdomen was slight, he still let out a tiny ‘oomph’ just to watch Stiles’ face screw up in indignation.

 

“Told you I could do it. And this spot is way better.” Stiles looked around, and then swore. “The lube is still outside. I’ll go get it.”

 

Derek’s hands tightened around Stiles’ sides and he growled, making Stiles laugh. “This’ll take less than ten seconds, you big baby. C’mon.” Derek narrowed his eyes and, just to be contrary, he slid his hands back to cup Stiles’ ass and squeezed.

 

The feeling of it had Stiles grinning, because it was so different from Derek lightly cupping him, always being so careful that he wouldn't break. "I'm not doing this without lube."

 

"I could eat your ass out," Derek suggested, and though his tone was light, Stiles saw his eyes flash, dark and dangerous. "No skin off my bones."

 

Stiles felt his mouth open and shut in surprise and a little shiver made its way down his spine.

 

"Shit, just, _stay_. I'll be right back." Before he could be stopped, Stiles flew off to grab the lube. He was back in less than a minute, but as soon as he landed Derek grabbed him as it he had been gone for weeks.

 

"Can you extend the spell?" Derek huffed before sinking his teeth into Stiles' shoulder. He knew the bruise would last for ages. Apparently, that was doing it for Derek just as much as it was for Stiles. "Maybe to a week," he continued, dragging his mouth over the mark and tasting it.

 

"I could try, not sure if I could get a whole week," Stiles said, grinding against Derek's leg when it was pushed between his.

 

Derek never knew Stiles' freckles changed colors when he was turned on. It probably should have seemed ridiculous, and without a doubt he was going to end up teasing Stiles about his technicolor mood-sensitive moles in the future, but at the moment, he could only give into his overwhelming desire to taste as many as he could see.

 

They tumbled down into the soft mattress of the couch, and Stiles couldn't help giving a moan when Derek kissed down his body. It felt so surreal, being just the right size to be able to do that.

 

Stiles cradled Derek's head in his hands and scratched down his broad shoulders, just because he could, and laughed when Derek's stubble tickled the soft skin under his belly button. He laughed even harder when Derek shifted over to try and fit his mouth around Stiles' hip bone. "Closet cannibal!"

 

That didn't even deserve a response, apparently, since Derek just continued on trying to get his mouth on every part of his body. And then Derek reached Stiles' cock and, oh, _that_ was twenty shades of fantastic.

 

"I can't even tell you how long I've been waiting for this," Stiles whimpered, arching his back. He whined when Derek's heavy palm pressed him down and held him there to writhe.

 

He gave a low growl before swallowing Stiles’ erection down, only about half way but it felt amazing. Stiles actually felt himself pushing Derek's head back up and off him. "Fuck, if you do that I'm not gonna last two seconds here."

 

"We've got a while," Derek smirked, pressing Stiles' rigid cock to his belly and licking a straight line up from the base. He felt his eyes shift at the desperate noises coming out of his companion's mouth.

 

"No, fuck, I want the first time I come to be when you're in me." He panted, and reached over for the lid of lube. "Derek, please, I need this."

 

"Yeah," Derek grunted, though he wasn't sure Stiles had asked him a question, or that he'd been looking for Derek's permission. He just wanted to give Stiles whatever he asked for, anything in the world. "Okay. Lube."

 

He put the lid down beside Derek, who coated his fingers in it and moved Stiles' legs apart. "After this, I'm going to make you come with just my mouth," he said, not specifying where exactly his mouth would be, which would be left as a nice little surprise for him.

 

"Yeah?" Stiles said, running his blunt nails over the sharp cut of Derek's jaw. He made a delighted little noise when Derek leaned in to kiss him, marvelling at the feel of his fingers inside of Stiles.

 

And it wasn't the wet drag of cotton, or Stiles' own fingers, or whatever else Derek had used on him before. It was Derek's own fingers, buried deep inside him.

 

Stiles kissed him hungrily, flexing around Derek's fingers and laughing into his mouth when Derek let out a strained choking sound. "Yeah, and when that's your dick, we're both gonna be pretty happy," Stiles gasped, sinking his fingernails into the tattoo between Derek's shoulders.

 

Even when there were three thick fingers in him, it was nowhere near as full as when Derek had fit his pinkie inside him ages ago, but it still felt full. Stiles thrust against the fingers, his legs moving around on the cushion.

 

"Please, Derek," Stiles said, his breath hitched. "Please, fuck me, I'm like twelve seconds away from coming my brains out!"

 

Derek grunted and pulled out his fingers, a line of lube connecting them for a second. But then he thrust forward, pushing inside, and they both gave identical moans.

 

"Fuck yeah, c'mon papa wolf," Stiles laughed, reaching down to grab Derek's ass. Derek let out a sound that was part irritation, part amusement as he latched his teeth onto Stiles' shoulder and drove in deep.

 

"Your ridiculous pet names," he grunted, rotating his hips just to hear Stiles sigh, "have got to stop."

 

Stiles let out a breathless laugh, squeezing his muscles until Derek gasped. "My pet names are amazing."

 

"Your _ass_ is amazing," Derek corrected, and in a great show of strength (and an even greater show of smugness) he hoisted them both up straight until Stiles was seated on his thighs, legs tight around Derek's waist. It was too hard for Derek to fuck up into him with his legs folded beneath him, but Stiles took up the task of riding him seamlessly, without pause. "The pet names? Not so much."

 

"You are the biggest theatrical showoff I know," Stiles crowed, kissing Derek hard as he pushed himself up and down on Derek's cock. He put a hand on Derek’s chest so that he could push himself up and down quicker. “Sh-shit, kiss me you idiot.”

 

“And I’m the theatrical one?” Derek scoffed, bumping his nose against Stiles’ and stilling him for a moment to drag him in for a kiss. Of course Stiles was laughing, he was always laughing, and he twined his fingers in Derek’s hair and kissed him as well as he could while his mouth was occupied with laughter.

 

Derek ran a hand down Stiles’ neck, rough fingers catching a little on his skin. He gripped his bony hips, helping move Stiles up and down on his cock. The faerie was leaning over him, wings bent at an odd angle, as if he wasn’t even thinking about them. They were a little ruffled from the rough treatment earlier, and Derek realized in the back of his mind that he could help Stiles preen them. Normally, the fae would spend hours combing and plucking and grooming, and he’d never known before that there were tiny feathers crawling from Stiles’ skin onto the velvety, insectile wings, He could touch them now, make them twitch without constantly fearing they might rip. Stiles jolted and gasped when he ran his fingers through the tiny feathers at the base,

 

He gave a moan, his eyes closed, hips stalling momentarily. "Ah, don't, please. They're really sensitive." Stiles gave a gasp when Derek dragged his hand away, cock leaking onto his stomach.

 

"I'm gonna groom you later," Derek promised, nosing the underside of Stiles' jaw. "I want to touch you all over when you're too exhausted to move."

 

Stiles pressed his eyes closed, trying to focus on the pull of Derek’s cock inside him. “Shit, I wish I could have found this spell earlier.” Even though _found_ wasn’t really the right word… _created_ was more to the point, but he would definitely be using it a lot if this was the result. Derek whuffed a little laugh and mouthed at a bruise he’d left on Stiles’ neck. He squeezed the fae’s ass and drove him down harder, faster.

 

“Now you’ll just have to perfect it,” he grunted. “Make it last longer.”

 

“Didn’t think you’d -ah- want it to last too long. In case something happened.” He had actually thought about adding some spruce tree bark, which generally made his spells last longer, but had changed his mind. Derek brought his thoughts off track when he lifted a hand, fitting it around Stiles’ cock and squeezing the head.

 

“Like what?” Derek huffed in amusement. Cheeky bastard.

 

“Like... I dunno - oh my god, okay, hold on, just, right, right there, ah... ahh...”

 

Derek sucked a bruise hard into Stiles’ neck. The fae gasped. “S-supernatural emergency! I don’t know!”

 

He ran a hand through Stiles’ short hair, lips moving against his skin as he spoke. “I’m confident you would be able to take care of it. Or turn me back if you weren’t.” Derek gave a small thrust up when Stiles went down, making him go a bit deeper than before. He wasn’t sure if the flush covering Stiles’ cheeks was from the pleasure of Derek’s faith in his skills, or Derek’s cock in his ass. “You gonna come any time soon? You were telling me how close you were five minutes ago.”

 

“Shut up, you dick!” Stiles laughed, hitting his shoulder. “Maybe if you’d try talking dirty instead of talking shit.”

 

And the gleam in Derek’s eye really should have told him what was going to happen next. Derek rolled them over in a fluid motion that had Stiles trapped under him, legs sprawled around his waist. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be able to feel me for weeks. And after we come, I’m gonna lick up all my come from your ass. I’m gonna eat you out for hours, and you won’t be able to do anything about it ‘cause you’ll be so exhausted from me – fucking - you.” He punctuated the remark with hard thrusts that had Stiles seeing stars, dragging harshly over his prostate.

 

The fae’s eyelashes fluttered as they fell shut over his eyes. His mouth had opened obscenely to let out little wordless encouragements and breathless noises as he scrambled to hold onto Derek’s sweat-slick shoulders. “F-fuck, yeah, I’m... I’m gonna hold you to that, brick house.”

 

Derek used one hand to hold up Stiles’ leg, and the other to jerk off the faerie’s weeping cock. “You love me fucking you, don’t you? How did you ever survive with a Q-tip? You need this, Stiles, you need this more than air.”

 

Stiles whimpered, gnawing on his bottom lip with a ragged, guttural groan as he came all over Derek’s hand and both of their stomachs. Derek palmed him through his long, slow aftershocks as he fucked into him just a little harder, teetering towards the edge of climax. “Fuck,” he snarled, “I don’t know how _I_ survived without fucking you.”

 

He squeezed around him, which was what finally pulled Derek over the edge, biting down on the skin over Stiles’ collar bone as his thrusts stilled, shooting his seed deep inside him.

 

It had been so frustratingly long since he’d fucked someone. He’d been a teenager when his parents had introduced him to Stiles, and even though he’d accustomed himself to a lifestyle where just about anyone was willing to sleep with him, after Stiles there was just no going back. Derek had the other half of his _soul_ , for fuck’s sake. He’d had no desire or inclination to go out and fuck anymore. But this - this was better than a simple fuck. It was a wonder they’d managed without this for so many years because right at that moment, Derek couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He collapsed on top of Stiles, but rolled over as soon as he could heft himself off, mindful of the wings.

 

Stiles was looking up at the ceiling, lazily dragging a finger through the come on his stomach. “Hey Derek?”

 

“What?”

 

“Are you asleep?”

 

“Obviously not,” he grunted, reaching out to pull Stiles closer.

 

“So then... are you gonna rim me?”

 

Derek let out an exhausted bark of laughter, dragging his own fingers through the stripes of come along Stiles’ stomach. The one wing stretched along the couch on the other side of Stiles flickered with movement before lazily easing back down. “Eager?”

 

“I’ve never been rimmed before. Seems like fun.” Stiles rolled over and gave him a lopsided smile. “And you _did_ promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: mizorekibishi made [an amazing fanart](http://archiveofourown.org/works/875193) for the tonguebath scene that we fawn over regularly.
> 
> If you are so inclined, feel free to follow [Byacolate's Tumblr](http://byacolate.tumblr.com/) and [Tyger's Twitter](https://twitter.com/Whitetyger123).


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